Kitty thought she was out of her senses. "There, it's all right!" she said, soothing her. "You have me! You will always have me! I'm so glad you came here. I will take care of you, and make you well again!"
Nahnya made believe to submit to her caresses. "I am cold," she murmured, with a sly glance. "Get me a coat, a shawl."
Kitty flew into the bedroom. No sooner had she passed the doorway, than Nahnya softly glided toward the outer door. She was too late. Before she reached it, it was filled with the bulk of a man. She fell back into the darkest corner with a gasp. Kitty returned out of the bedroom.
"Ralph!" cried Kitty gladly.
Ralph coming out of the sunlight did not immediately recognize Nahnya in her corner. He distinguished two figures.
"Hello! Who's here?" he said.
Kitty ran to Nahnya, and wrapped a shawl about her shoulders. "It's Annie Crossfox," she said, full of concern. "She's sick, and I—
"Annie Crossfox!" cried Ralph in a great voice.
He sprang toward her. Kitty fell back in astonishment. Nahnya shrank from him, and covered her face with her hands. Seizing her wrists, he pulled her hands down. She betrayed her white blood in her changing colour. Her face crimsoned—and turned deathly pale. Her hands in Ralph's hands trembled like aspen leaves. There was a silence in the cabin.
Ralph stood devouring her with his eyes. It seemed to him as if that which was walled-up within him had suddenly burst. He was flooded with the sense of the identity he had lost in his illness. It was as if himself came back to him. And all of it was his love for Nahnya. It filled him. It was like something new, and infinitely sweeter and stronger than before.